Repentance, the path to Joy

Fourth Sunday of Lent Year C
Laetare Sunday

I’m going to start by stating an obvious but essential truth - albeit an uncomfortable one - most of us are afraid of seeing change in our lives. From routine behaviour, to lifestyle patterns to business-as-usual way of doing things at the workplace or home or even church, change is uncomfortable to say the least. Sometimes, when we are constantly grumbling over the status quo, we still deliberately choose to maintain it for fear that change may exact a greater price from us. “Better the devil that you know than the devil you don’t.” So, we continue to plod on, weighed down by the burden of despair and hardship, rather than choose to cast off the shackles and be set free. We end up always choosing status quo over change.

As the witty Ronald Reagan once stated, “Status quo, you know, that is Latin for the mess we’re in.” Yes, today’s readings would affirm this important truth. If the Israelites had chosen the status quo, they would not have arrived at their destination which is the Promised Land. If the followers of Christ had not chosen to renounce their ego and personal agendas, they would not become the “new creation” which is what the Lord had chosen them to become. If the Israelites were contented with the hard but stable life of servitude in Egypt, they would not have made the journey to freedom. If they were contented with just consuming manna in the desert, they would not be able to savour the rich produce of the lands which awaited them at the end of their meanderings. If the early Christians had chosen to remain attached to their old sinful lifestyles of corruption and debauchery, they would never have been able to experience the joy of being reconciled with God.

So, clinging on to the status quo means relishing in mediocrity whilst rejecting the heights of glory and perfection which the Lord has called us to. The status quo discourages risk taking and encourages us to deny or circumvent the cross, which is the only means in which we hope to follow and imitate the Lord. The status quo sells us the lie that we have already arrived at our destination and that there is nothing better beyond what we are experiencing here and now. It gets us into a rut and we are stuck, making no progress but often regressing in any spiritual growth that we have attained thus far. Change and repentance are the only way we can get out of this vicious cycle. Repentance is the key that can get us out of the gaol of sin and mediocrity. The problem is that we are always expecting others to change but never subject ourselves to the same demands.

But not all change is good or positive. Change which leads us away from God ultimately leads us to our doom, to the pit of despair. This was the change desired by the younger son in our familiar parable of the Prodigal Son. He desired freedom to set his own course in life. He desired financial freedom to feed his insatiable appetite for entertainment. But ultimately, he sought freedom from the only man who truly cared for him and loved him, his father. All the other friends whom he bought with his wealth proved to be fair-weathered. They stuck with him only as long as he could finance their lifestyle of debauchery. They too were subjects or slaves of change, but a change that ate into the root of fidelity demanded by lasting friendships. Their feelings towards this son changed as quickly as his fortune took a turn for the worse.

But the younger son, after having squandered his inheritance and exhausted all his material resources, also expressed a change that is needed by all of us, a change that would lead to his repentance and eventually his redemption. We Christians call this change repentance. This is a kind of change that does not take place on the surface - one which is superficial - but a change that takes place in the depths. Repentance involves a turning away from and a turning towards - we turn away from sin, from our ego, from our old self - and we turn to God who alone remains the constant axis, the anchor of our lives, the Only One who is unchanging because He has no need to change, He cannot change, He is perfection itself. The Greek word translated as repentance is metanoia, which literally means a change of mind and heart. Before he could change his direction, to run towards his father after a lifetime of running away from him, the son had to experience a change of mind and heart. It suddenly dawned on him that his father was the true source of joy in his life and not the bane of it.

And so, we witness in the beautiful tale of the Prodigal son, a humbled younger son, a pale shadow of his impetuous younger self, not fully converted nor perfectly repented, but now committed to a path of conversion and repentance, a gradual process of inner change that would lead him back to his father. The father unlike his son, has not changed because he has no need to change. He remains loving and compassionate to his son despite being rejected by the latter. He receives his son with open arms, an unmatched joy that has not been lessened by his son’s betrayal. There is no doubt to the hearer of the parable that this father is a symbol of none other than our Heavenly Father.

Rather than to see contrition for one’s sins which leads to repentance as a dampening of our mood, a wet blanket thrown over an unhindered life where we can choose to do as we wish, such conversion is the real elixir which grants us lasting joy. If there is any reason to be joyful today on Laetare Sunday, it is this - repentance brings the ultimate change by challenging the status quo of sin: a change from fruitlessness to fruitfulness, blindness to sight, lost to found, darkness to light, sick to healed, and being born again and becoming a new creation.

And so, during these holy days of a new springtime, for that is what Lent is all about, we learn that change can be hard because coming out of slavery can be a long, daunting process. It requires that we see beyond the immediate, beyond the earthly things which we stubbornly cling to, and keep our gaze firmly fixed upon the end result: total union with God. If we do, we can endure any trial, knowing that there is a loving Father who never tires in waiting for our return to Him. Unlike all the things of this earth, our Father’s love for us has not changed, it cannot change, it will endure forever. Likewise, we too must endure. To endure to the end means we must have our minds set to never surrender, to never desire to return to the slavery from which we’ve been liberated, to always allow God to change our hearts and minds so that we can become the best version of ourselves which He has intended us to become.

Blessed is she

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year C

If you pray the Holy Rosary regularly, you would immediately recognise that the Joyful Mystery of Mary’s Visitation to her cousin Elizabeth comes immediately after the Annunciation and before the Nativity of our Lord, Christmas. It is therefore not surprising to have the gospel for this Sunday focusing on this story of the meeting of these two women. But more importantly, it was the first meeting between the sons they were carrying within their wombs, the cousins Jesus and John the Baptist. And less the audience were to forget them as they nestled not so quietly within their mothers’ wombs, hidden and off-camera, the text throws light on them to ensure that we do not forget that the entire story would be theirs, and less of their mothers.

Elizabeth would take on a prophetic role by announcing what is really taking place behind the scene. The hand of God is at work even as mortals play out the drama of human relations and emotions. Elizabeth inspired by the Holy Spirit declares and pronounces a series of blessings - two addressed to Mary, and one to the child within her womb. This is not the Beatitude of the Sermon on the Mount found in Matthew’s gospel nor the set found in the Sermon on the plain in Luke’s. Nevertheless, Elizabeth uses the Greek word which also translates into “happy” which we would find in both sets of beatitudes - makarios. Here it is translated as “blessed.”

“Makarios” was derived from two root words: “mak”, to become large, and “charis”, grace. For, one who is blessed has been enlarged, or magnified, by grace. It was, therefore, a word reserved for the elite, and then only the crème de la crème. During the classical Greek era, makarios described the status of the gods, emphasising their power and wealth. At times, it also described the state of the dead, since through death they had now arrived at the world of the gods. They were beyond the cares and worries common to the living, and now enjoyed the company of the gods. But during our Lord’s era, the word makarios was used to describe those who had everything money could buy – those who lived like the gods. They were enjoying the personal satisfaction of their achievements, the height of socio-economic status, the best political connections, and the wealth of enduring and enriching personal relationships. Makarios was the supreme blessing. It was synonymous with all the joys of the life hereafter. Thus, it was not a descriptive term thrown around lightly.

And now Elizabeth uses this very concept in various ways.

Firstly, in referring to Mary as most blessed among all women. The Old Testament mentions and even sings praises of several of these women and the gospel of St Matthew even intertwines some of their names into the patrilineal genealogy of our Lord. But Mary stands out among all these women. The next part of Elizabeth’s announcement would give the reason for Mary’s supreme blessedness.

Elizabeth now declares the child within Mary’s womb as “blessed” too but not in the way as Mary is blessed. The blessedness of Mary is ascribed to her by God as it is announced by the Angel Gabriel at the Annunciation. In both the Annunciation and here in the Visitation, Mary is declared to be the mother of the Lord, the Most High God. God is not just blessed or the source of blessedness. The only one truly blessed in Himself is God and Jesus is the incarnate makarios, worthy to receive the threefold declaration of the angels, “holy, holy, holy.”

Elizabeth would conclude her prophetic outburst with a final makarios: “blessed is she who believed that the promise made her by the Lord would be fulfilled.” It is by virtue of her faith and her obedience that Mary is hailed as blessed. The faith of Mary is a light for the whole world, and which will not be put out by night. She was and is a woman of incredible faith, who believed the prophets and trusted the angelic messengers, even when the message seemed beyond human credibility. In this, she serves as an example for us. For, she stands under the promise, even when that promise seems definitively thwarted by the forces of evil. It is under this third use of the word of “Makarios” that we can share in Mary’s blessedness. We too are blessed when we believe in the promises of God, and act upon them.

This is how we should prepare ourselves in the next few days leading up to the great feast of Christmas. We have truly been “blessed”, our grace has been enlarged, our hearts have been emboldened, our hope has been renewed, knowing that the Lord is on His way, not just to visit us but to be one with us, united with us in body and soul, sharing with us His divinity as He humbly shared in our humanity. Instead of all the bad news we may be hearing these days, let the greetings of this holy season bring such joy and peace to us so that we too may leap with joy as the Baptist did in his mother’s womb. And just as Mary believed God, and so Jesus Christ took flesh within her, at this Mass, let us not doubt that Jesus Christ is going to take flesh once more in the Blessed Sacrament and enter each one of us as He entered the body of His Blessed Mother. Let’s ask for the faith truly to believe that this is so—that through this Eucharist, Christ’s Body is united to ours. If we believe in the fulfilment of the promise made to us that He is truly really and substantially present, we are indeed blessed!

Don't Worry! Be Happy!

Third Sunday of Advent Year C

Christmas is just over a week away, and for many the air of excitement is just plain electrifying. For most of us, we can’t wait for it to happen! And yet, this season often ushers a troubling sense of melancholy. For many, they know that this should be a season of rejoicing but it doesn’t always feel this way for one reason or another. The children have left for overseas and the home feels like an empty nest. A particular loved one that had always been part of our annual Christmas celebrations is no longer here and it just doesn’t feel the same. Anxiety building up over the future - rising expenses, financial instabilities, a recently diagnosed ailment that could worsen within weeks and months. The call of today’s liturgy to “rejoice” seems to ring hollow. Is the Church calling us to excite ourselves, some form of self- delusional “syiok sendiri” (self-induced elation)?

The readings exhort, in fact, they command us to rejoice by using an entire list of synonymous verbs to express that exuberance: shout for joy, shout aloud, exult with all your heart, sing and shout for joy, give thanks to the Lord and who can forget St Paul’s “be happy!” In fact, Paul’s words in the second reading sound like that famous song by Bobby McFerrin, “Don’t worry! Be Happy!”

The Joy which the liturgy and readings speak of is not something which comes upon suddenly and instantaneously, like a shot of adrenaline or dopamine. This joy isn’t a sudden outburst. It has been building within us, the closer the Good News has drawn. This is the joy of all the ages bursting and singing forth, building up over the centuries, prophesied by the prophets, announced by St John the Baptist, knowing the Good News that is about to be bestowed upon us all. It can hardly be contained. In fact, it can’t be.

In the first reading, the prophet Zephaniah commands Jerusalem to rejoice and gives the reason for it. “The Lord has repealed your sentence; He has driven your enemies away. The Lord, the king of Israel, is in your midst; you have no more evil to fear.” Yes, we should have every reason to rejoice and celebrate because our Lord has forgiven our sins; He has removed the curse of Original Sin that laid like the Sword of Damocles over our heads; He has defeated our enemies - sin, death and the devil. But there is more. Zephaniah adds that God rejoices over us! With gladness! “The Lord your God is in your midst, a victorious warrior. He will exult with joy over you, He will renew you by His love; He will dance with shouts of joy for you as on a day of festival.” God is rejoicing over us and that should be a great reason if any for us to rejoice.

St Paul in the second reading lays down the reason why he wants us to be happy. Let’s start with the flip side of happiness which is unhappiness. What is the main cause of unhappiness? Paul tells us that it is anxiety - worries. We worry because we lack trust in God. And worry leads to unrest and the lack of peace which eventually leads to unhappiness. And that is the reason why St Paul tells us that the path to happiness is praying and placing our trust in the Lord: “There is no need to worry; but if there is anything you need, pray for it, asking God for it with prayer and thanksgiving, and that peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.” Notice that Paul doesn’t promise that we will get what we prayed for. Our true reward, the answer to our prayer is the “peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand.”

This is the reason why we can still rejoice when things do not seem to be going our way or according to our plans, when we are facing one crisis or another, when we have suffered loss and are experiencing loneliness and alienation. Because as long as we do not lose faith in God and continue to persevere in pray, the “peace of God, which is so much greater than we can understand, will guard your hearts and your thoughts, in Christ Jesus.” Peace is not the absence of conflict or problems. Peace involves presence rather than absence. It comes with the acknowledgement that God is in our midst, “a victorious warrior. He will exult with joy over you, He will renew you by His love; He will dance with shouts of joy for you as on a day of festival.”

And finally, we come to the gospel and the final herald of joy, St John the Baptist. John doesn’t strike us as a Pollyanna-like optimistic figure. In fact, he strikes us as quite the opposite. Solemn, sombre and rigidly kill-joy. Unlike the other two figures we encountered in the first and the second reading, John does not burst forth in a cheer leader’s rallying cry exhorting us to rejoice. On the contrary, he provides strict moral guidance to his audience to share, to avoid greed and intimidation and then uses apocalyptic language of judgment to speak of the One who is coming, one who is superior to John and who “will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing-fan is in his hand to clear his threshing-floor and to gather the wheat into his barn; but the chaff he will burn in a fire that will never go out.”

The idea of judgment - separation of the wheat from the chaff and the destruction of the latter - does not naturally inspire joy. And yet St Luke describes this message as “good news”! And it is good news because it expresses the fundamental preparatory work of John - calling his listeners to repentance, to separate themselves from the chaff of sin. And before we think of the image of fire pointing to the eternal hell fire which all damned unrepentant souls must endure for eternity, we must also remember that fire represents the Holy Spirit which we receive in Baptism and a greater outpouring at Confirmation. Fire too represents the purgative element of God’s love, refining us, purifying us, restoring us, beautifying us. The prophet Zephaniah alluded to this in the first reading when he prophesied the Lord’s coming into our midst to “renew” us by His love.

So, as the weeks of Advent draw to a close and the days and nights of December lead us closer to that solemn night where our Lord and Saviour was born in the City of David, let us not choose to wallow in self-pity or crippling worries. We are commanded today to rejoice, and we do so not by finding substitutes to Christ in the form of intoxicants or other means of entertainment. Lasting joy cannot be found in any human pursuits but in God alone. He alone gives us the joy we seek.

Rejoice! Indeed the Lord is near!

Third Sunday of Advent Year B

As that 60s Christmas song claims, “it’s the most wonderful time of the year.” But is it? It is true that for most people, there are many reasons to revel in the season - the exhilaration of Christmas shopping and carolling, the excitement of receiving gifts, partaking in family reunions, enjoying year-end holidays and taking the necessary break from work and school. But it can also be the season that creates much stress, anxiety and even depression. When more is expected, there can be more reasons to fail. Add to this natural predilection for disappointment and failure would be a global inflation gone out of control, a country with an uncertain and worrying political future, two major conflicts threatening to escalate into another world war.

Against this tide, not just a tide but a tsunami of despair, today’s liturgy shouts out this refrain: “Rejoice! Exult for Joy! Be happy at all times!” Our senses seem to want to shout back: “What’s there to be joyful about?” “Is the Church blind?”

And yet on this Sunday, the Church’s liturgy demands that we rejoice: “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I say, rejoice!” These words are a paraphrase of the passage from St Paul’s first letter to the Thessalonians which we heard as our second reading. Indeed, the Third Sunday of Advent is called “Gaudete Sunday.” “Gaudete” is the Latin word meaning ‘rejoice.’

What joy can there be in the midst of so much pain, suffering, gloom and darkness? It is certainly not the joy that emerges from some false optimism on our part that things are going to get better – too often, we can attest to this, things in fact get worse. Neither is it the joy that comes from creating an illusory world in our minds where pain and suffering is denied. So, what is this joy which the readings are speaking of? So, why should we be happy, and be happy “at all times,” albeit in good times or bad, in sickness or in health? St Paul tells us that this rejoicing is required of us simply “because this is what God expects you to do in Christ Jesus.” And the Church adds in her liturgy, “Indeed, the Lord is near.” The answer lies in Christ. True lasting joy is found only with God in Christ.

We are called to rejoice, because the Lord is coming – He is coming to save us, to liberate us, and to give us new life. Many of us may be experiencing some form of darkness in our lives. We find ourselves in the midst of problems without any apparent solution. We see ourselves ‘captives’ of our difficult circumstances, there seems to be no way out. Our hearts may be broken because of rejection or we have been hurt by the actions and words of others. We see ourselves poor, hungering and thirsting for friendship, understanding and a sense of belonging. Some of us find ourselves trapped in the darkness of sin.

If we see ourselves in any of these situations, rejoice and be glad, because the readings promise good news. This is the promise of God, as St. Paul tells us in the second reading: “God has called you and He will not fail you.” God is always faithful. God keeps His promise. God will not fail you. And what is this promise? The prophet Isaiah announces that the coming of the Lord’s anointed messenger will mean healing and liberation to all who are poor, broken-hearted, oppressed, and captive. The Good News is that which is announced by John the Baptist in the gospel – the Anointed One has come - Jesus has come – He is the Light of the World – and He is waiting to enter into your hearts and into your lives once again.

Therefore, we Christians anticipate the End Times not with fear and trembling, but with rejoicing. St Paul reminds us in the second reading, “Be happy at all times, pray constantly, and for all things give thanks.” Like the prophet Isaiah in the first reading, the thought of the “end times,” of Christ’s coming, should be met with euphoria, “I exult for joy in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God!”

Sometimes we have an image of John the Baptist as an austere ascetic. In depicting the Baptist in this fashion, we tend to forget the joy that is associated with his entire life and vocation. It was him who leapt for joy in his mother Elizabeth’s womb when she encountered the Mother of the Word Incarnate. In the fourth Gospel, St John speaks of the source of the Baptist’s supernatural joy - it is the joy of the best man, who rejoices greatly at hearing the bridegroom’s voice. And thus, his humility opened a space within him for true joy, the kind which comes from the real presence of the Lord. So it can be, for each one of us.

Thus, John stands as a sign for us today on Gaudete Sunday. He points out for each one of us the path to lasting joy, not just a forgery or a fading type of joy. We should imitate his lifestyle of self-emptying – a life marked by humility – we prepare for the coming of the Lord by always holding on this basic principle that defined the Baptist’s life and mission, “He must increase and I must decrease.” Despite the difficulties he encountered, the harshness and austerity of his life, his imprisonment and execution at the hands of a local tyrant, John understood that as his own light dimmed and faded, another light was coming, the true light was coming to illuminate the darkened world and cast aside the shadows of sin. The Baptist only caught a glimpse of the first glimmer of light before the sunrise. We, on the other hand, have the privilege of knowing and witnessing that sunrise at Easter. We can, therefore, know no lasting peace and joy, unless we come to know Christ, the true Light of the World, and allow the light of His grace to transform us.

So, this Sunday, Gaudete Sunday, Rejoice Sunday, becomes another opportunity to be joyful, indeed it is a joy that is greater than it was in the days of the prophet Isaiah or in the days of John the Baptist. What they could only envision in a time of prophecy, we now experience in a time of reality. In just a matter of days we will celebrate the Feast of the Nativity of the Lord. But we do not just commemorate the past. The Liturgy anticipates the future, the coming of our Saviour, our Liberator, the Christ who will bring to completion the good work He has begun in us. For this reason, Holy Mother Church commands us in the imperative – “Rejoice”! Notice that this is a command, not a suggestion. “Gaudete in Domino semper: iterum dico, gaudete: Dominus prope est.” “Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Indeed the Lord is near!”

Seek the Kingdom, Seek Humility

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

At one time, Catholics were expected to learn and memorise the 10 commandments, a collection of Catholic prayers, the names of the seven sacraments and the Beatitudes. Most of us may still be able to make a fair stab at the first three. But how many of us can recall all eight beatitudes?

Today, we have a chance to listen to the list of Beatitudes which serves as the opening to the Sermon on the Mount. Saint Matthew clearly saw the Beatitudes as important, as crystallising Jesus’ teaching. They are the first words of teaching that Matthew quotes in his gospel. The “sermon” is given its name because Matthew tells us that the Lord had gone up to the mountain to teach (just as Moses did when he received the 10 commandments on Mount Sinai), and the Lord teaches sitting down, the traditional position of a rabbi when wanting to teach officially, not just off-the-cuff, throw-away lines while wandering along. Jesus and Matthew are telling us: this is important!

The Lord looks at those gathered around Him on that mountain. These are people who do not live easy, comfortable lives. They are people who for the most part live in poverty, for whom hunger, starvation even, is only one bad harvest away, for whom sickness and disease can all too readily lead to suffering and death, who are weak and vulnerable to the rapaciousness of the rich, to the violence of the powerful. He looks at them and tells them that if they follow the way of the kingdom, they will be “happy!” Try wrapping your head around this. To say to this group of poor, struggling people that one day they will be comforted, they will inherit the earth, they will see God, they will be called children of God, is just an extraordinary promise. To make such a radical connexion would require more than a few mental summersaults.

And yet, the Lord goes further: “If you follow me, you are blessed”. Each one of these eight remarkable statements begins with: “Happy are…” In other words “blessed are you…” or “you are in a good place when you are poor in spirit, when you mourn, etc…” You are in a place of hope, of life, of truth, in the here and now. Jesus tells those listening whose lives are so tough, He tells us too, “when you follow me, you are in that good place”. It’s the promise that in the midst of struggles we can be in a place of current hope, peace, joy, life. The beatitudes point us forward to an even better future but there is the promise that we can experience the taste of that future even now - joy can be found even in the midst of sorrow.

So how do we experience that place of current and future blessedness, that place of hope, of joy, of peace, of life, in the midst of the turmoil and struggles of life? Our Lord tells us: Live the life of the kingdom.

Here’s a hack on how to read the beatitudes. Although each beatitude merits a lengthy commentary, the first beatitude provides an adequate summary of the rest. “How happy are the poor in spirit; theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” Who are the poor in spirit? The poor in spirit was a phrase used throughout the Old Testament to describe those who had come to acknowledge that they were totally in need of God’s help. It was often associated with those who were economically destitute, those who had nothing left to rely on – no money, no power, no influence – and so could only trust in God. Poverty of spirit is a total emptying of oneself, an abandonment of the self to the will of God.

It is that sense of utter dependence, of acknowledging that only God can meet our needs, that is meant here. We are not to rely on our own wealth, or status, or abilities. We are to humbly acknowledge that we need God in every aspect of our lives. Christ Himself shows us what that looks like.

So, the first beatitude could be re-phrased: “You are in a good place when you acknowledge that you totally need God, that you cannot do it by yourself.” That leads us to prayer and to humility. Humility is the key to understand the Beatitudes. Humility is the key which opens the door to the kingdom. Humility is the basis and foundation of all to follow. As Saint John Chrysostom says, “Pride is the fountain of all wickedness, so is humility the principle of all self-command.”

Of all the virtues Christ commended in the Beatitudes, it is significant that the first is humility, being ‘poor in spirit’. Here is the divine irony, the ascent to the mountain of the Lord (the Mount of Beatitudes) first requires a descent: the closer we come to the Lord, the more keenly aware are we of our distance, the more we grow in holiness, the greater the awareness of our unworthiness. That is why the virtue of humility (the blessed gift of self-forgetfulness) underlies all the others. For example, you cannot mourn without appreciating how insufficient you are to handle loss in your own strength. That is humility. You cannot hunger and thirst for righteousness if you proudly think of yourself as already righteous. Longing to fill that spiritual appetite demands humility. You cannot be merciful without recognising your own need for mercy. To confess your sin and ask God and others for forgiveness takes humility. You cannot be pure in heart if your heart is filled with pride.

In the first reading, the prophet Zephaniah describes the remnant of Israel who will be restored to their land after the period of exile as “the humble of the earth.” In his view, it is the humble of the Lord who will receive divine blessing, those who seek refuge in the Name or Power of the Lord and recognise their entire dependence on Him. So if one wishes to be reconciled to God and with others, heed the call to “seek integrity, seek humility.”

St Paul provides a correction to the popular identification of humility to self-deprecation. It is not about boasting about your achievements or lack of it which makes you proud or humble but rather in whether one seeks to give glory to God or dwell in some form of narcissistic self-worship. That is why St Paul tells us in the second reading: “The human race has nothing to boast about to God” and that is why “if anyone wants to boast, let him boast about the Lord.”

The Beatitudes encourage an upside-down view of what leads to being in a good place, a place of blessing, a place of solid not just fleeting happiness. We may be tempted to think that it is when all our needs are met, when we are self-reliant, when we are financially independent, when we are in control of our lives, that we are happy. Instead, the Lord calls us to humbly acknowledge that we are always in need of God, and to live that out by living lives of prayerfulness. And we may be tempted to deny real sorrow or to avoid recognising the impact of our own failings. But instead, the Lord calls us to acknowledge the depths of our grief, the gravity of our powerlessness and the extent of our failings, for it is in doing so that we discover God as healer and comforter and the only true source of strength.

Already but Not-Yet

Third Sunday of Advent Year A

We have a set of idioms which often express this truth that you cannot be doing two different things at the same time. For example, “He who chases two rabbits will catch neither.” But of course, some would claim, as President Joe Biden often does, that “you can walk and chew gum at the same time.” Advent has the ability to bring together two ideas which doesn’t seem to coalesce because they can be found at diametrically opposite ends of the time spectrum. One is that “Jesus is coming” and the second is that “Jesus has already come.” So which is it? Has he come or are we still waiting?

This is often described as “already-but-not-yet”. In salvation history, the past, present and the future are not like oil and water; they are organically connected like seed and tree. So, Christ’s first coming at Christmas marks the beginning of the last days. Christ is the fulfilment of the age of perfection and renewal envisioned by the prophets and yet, the complete fulfilment of those prophecies can only be experienced at a future time - when Christ returns in glory. Christ’s second coming will mark the end of the last days. So, we are living now between the beginning and the end of the End Times, between the Lord’s first and second coming.

This expectation of the Lord’s coming is a powerful theme among the prophets. This is what we hear in the first reading. To a people in exile who have lost their home, Chapter 35 of Isaiah is like a brilliant shaft of light breaking through the clouds of despair and all is bathed in splendour again. Arid wastes burst into bloom as the glory of the Lord comes down like refreshing showers, and the whole earth shouts for joy. It’s a vision to steady trembling hands, strengthen weak knees, and lift fearful hearts.

The people addressed here remember the sights of home, but they are far away, and powerless to return. They have been conquered and brutalised, and their anguished hearts cry out for vengeance, retribution, and deliverance. But they have no strength to right the wrongs they have suffered or to bring those responsible to account. They are blind, deaf, lame, and mute; they have no power to help themselves; only God can save them. And the good news of this chapter is that He will do just that. Isaiah cries, ‘Look, your God is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God; he is coming to save you.’ He will raise up a highway for them and bring them home. They will enter Zion with singing…sorrow and sighing will flee away, and they will be overtaken by a joy that will never end.

What an amazing vision and yet it is clear that it reaches beyond the event of the return of the Jews from exile to something else. Even after returning from exile, the Jews continue to suffer. The everlasting joy promised in this chapter will always prove elusive, until it finds its fulfilment in Christ. This too was on the mind of St John the Baptist as he languished in prison awaiting his own execution. Having received word of our Lord Jesus and His ministry, John sends his disciples to clarify his doubts: “Are you the one who is to come, or have we got to wait for someone else?” In other words, is Jesus the fulfilment of the prophecies of Isaiah?

Although no timeline is given for this to happen, Isaiah’s prophecy provides the “signs” by which this age is to be identified: “the eyes of the blind shall be opened, the ears of the deaf unsealed, then the lame shall leap like a deer and the tongues of the dumb sing for joy.” Our Lord’s answer to the Baptist’s emissary confirms that Isaiah’s prophecy is being fulfilled: “Go back and tell John what you hear and see; the blind see again, and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised to life and the Good News is proclaimed to the poor.” The miracles worked by the Lord demonstrate that the moment of true redemption foreseen indistinctly by the prophets has come to pass.

If our Lord is the fulfilment of what the prophets had anticipated, then why are we still living in expectation? Yes, our Lord has already fulfilled these prophecies through His first coming at the Incarnation but its final results will only be seen when He returns in glory after His ascension to the Father’s right hand. From there He sends out the Holy Spirit on His Church. Now He is present in our midst through faith, through the preaching of the Gospel and in the sacraments. So, although we continue to wait in anticipation for that day when all His enemies will be placed under His feet, we are already now experiencing His victory over sin, the devil and death. His victory is “already-but-not-yet!” This is why the Church exhorts us to rejoice.

The call to rejoice may seem a little hollow. We are facing so many challenges on a personal and public level. There are financial stresses, health problems, deadlines at work, dysfunctional relationships with family members. On a national and global perspective, there is widespread inflation and a shrinking economy, an unstable unity government on the brink of shattering, political and religious apathy especially among the young, and perhaps a world on the brink of a third world war. So, in the midst of this, how do we rejoice? How can we rejoice?

It is good to be reminded that the Lord did not promise us a trouble-free life or world. One cannot find any such articulation in the gospels. The promise is that: ‘your God is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God; He is coming to save you.’ And we see in Christ that this promise is already being fulfilled but not completely yet. We Christians must continue to live in the tension between the “already” and the “not yet”. It is the tension of knowing that God has come in the flesh, but we await His return in glory; that God has wreaked vengeance to and brought retribution to our enemies although we still have to live under their oppressive rule for a limited time; and that although God has saved us and liberated us from the prison of sin and death, we must continue to persevere and faithfully follow the path of sanctification, resisting sin and growing in virtue through the graces.

Though our future is certain because we have been redeemed by our Lord’s death and resurrection (the already), our sanctification (the not yet) can be turbulent. Sanctification is an ongoing battle. Sometimes we win; sometimes we lose. We’re constantly in flux. We have mountaintop experiences before lying defeated in dark valleys. We take three steps forward before quickly taking two steps (or four steps) back. In the midst of this distressing battle, viewing one’s sanctification through the already-not yet lens keeps you from feeling powerless. We of course, would like to have only one of these realities: victory without defeat, success without failure, perfection without sacrifice. But as for now, living in the tension of the “already” and “not yet,” we must learn to patiently endure both realities, knowing that our Lord “is coming, vengeance is coming, the retribution of God, He is coming to save you.” That is why, let us heed the advice of St James: “Be patient, brothers, until the Lord’s coming…do not lose heart, because the Lord’s coming will be soon.”

Encounter of Joy

Fourth Sunday of Advent Year C

On this last Sunday of Advent before Christmas, our gospel takes us to the scene of the last recorded appearance of Mary in the gospels before the birth of our Lord - the scene of the Visitation of our Lady to her cousin Elizabeth. The Visitation is one moment from the infancy narratives that can prepare us in a special way for the coming of our Lord this Christmas. It provides us with a snapshot of Mary as a loving servant who is familiar with the Scriptures, bubbling over with joy, and confident in the promises of her God.

The scene also provides us with the prophetic words and action of both Elizabeth and the unborn child within her womb. Even here, John the Baptist, still a foetus, displays his prophetic skills as the precursor of the Messiah. It is here, and not at the river Jordan, where our Lord and the Baptist first meets. But lastly, the real protagonist of this story remains quiet and hidden. Like John, our Lord Jesus also remains nestled in the womb of His mother. No one would have even noticed His presence without the revelation and prompting of the Spirit who alerted John, who in turn alerted his mother with a joyful kick in the womb.

John, the child in Elizabeth’s womb, could not contain his joy and leapt, danced, rejoiced at the approach of Jesus. I think it is fair to say that few of us react with such poignant and uncontainable joy when we come close to our Lord. Christmas has this alluring power over us, both old and young. It is capable of igniting this childlike joy and sense of wonderment in us, as we long to peek into the crèche on Christmas night to catch a glimpse of the new born child.

But there is something of Christmas even now, in fact every day. In every Catholic church, there present is Jesus Christ – in His Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. Fully, truly, really, and substantially present. This is no mere symbol, nor even some manner of imperfect presence. Far too often we are guilty of falling scandalously short of appropriate reverence for the Eucharist. Let us pray that we will experience the same excitement as did John in his mother’s womb. We should be leaping and dancing with joy as we come into the presence of our Lord.

In fact, we should be exclaiming with Elizabeth and asking ourselves this question: “Why should I be honoured to be given such a great privilege to visit our Lord?” Just like Elizabeth, we cannot remain silent observers here, nor treat this moment as something common and ordinary. We need to listen to Elizabeth if we wish to have a proper perspective of Christmas. She alone, inspired by the Holy Spirit, makes a declaration of faith which becomes an essential component of the “Hail Mary” – “Blessed are thou among women and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus”. Her words become the foundation of our Christian faith regarding the true nature of Christ and what we celebrate at Christmas. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches: “Called in the Gospels “the mother of Jesus” Mary is acclaimed by Elizabeth, at the prompting of the Spirit and even before the birth of her son, as “the mother of my Lord.” In fact, the One whom she conceived as man by the Holy Spirit, who truly became her Son according to the flesh, was none other than the Father’s eternal Son, the second person of the Holy Trinity. Hence the Church confesses that Mary is truly “Mother of God” (Theotokos).” (CCC 495)

And finally, we have Mary, “the mother of my Lord.” Mary’s spirit dances in anticipation of the Lord. Having received glad tidings from the angel about the Son she would bear for God, for the salvation of humanity, she travels “quickly” to Elizabeth and upon arriving, bursts into a joyful song of praise. It is unfortunate that we do not get to hear her song of praise, the Magnificat, as this is the climax of this episode of the Visitation. Her ‘bubbling over’, mimics the joy of Heaven. There’s no room for anything but praise and thanksgiving. It overwhelms, overflows, “overshadows” — a word we also hear at the Annunciation.

Mary, our Blessed Mother, is the perfect example of devotion to Jesus, of reverence for His Holy Presence. She leads the Church to keep vigil at the crèche, awaiting the birth of her Son. Consider the words of Saint Teresa of Calcutta: “In the mystery of the Annunciation and the Visitation, Mary is the very model of the life we should lead. First of all, she welcomed Jesus in her existence; then, she shared what she had received. Every time we receive Holy Communion, Jesus the Word becomes flesh in our life – gift of God who is at one and the same time beautiful, kind, unique. Thus, the first Eucharist was such: Mary’s offering of her Son in her, in whom he had set up the first altar. Mary, the only one who could affirm with absolute confidence, “this is my body”, from that first moment offered her own body, her strength, all her being, to form the Body of Christ.”

Amidst the flurry of shopping, visiting, and end-of-year work activities that will surely fill our Advent calendars this season, take a few minutes each day to encounter God, who often chooses to be hidden only to reveal Himself when you willingly spend time with Him in prayer, especially before the Blessed Sacrament. If you longed for the experience to spend time before the manger on that first Christmas night, know that each time you spend time before the Blessed Sacrament in the tabernacle is no lesser experience. If you struggle with prayer and don’t know what to say, dig deep into Scriptures like Mary, and pray the Magnificat with her. Let your soul proclaim the greatness of the Lord this Advent and beyond, through joy, Scripture, and loving service.

What must we do?

Third Sunday of Advent Year C

St John the Baptist was truly an enigmatic figure of his time, as he remains one today. An ascetic who lived away from the company of friends and society out in the wilderness, who dressed strangely and survived on a stranger diet in the manner of a lunatic, performing ablutions which were usually done on initiates into the Jewish faith or priests before they performed the Temple sacrifices, and finally calling his audience, even those who considered themselves pious and righteous, to repentance. Despite his strange appearance and his sober message, there was something intriguing about him which drew crowds to him like a rock star and celebrity, and he did all this without having any miracle recorded in his name.

Last week, we were already introduced to the Baptist as the son of Zechariah who lived out in the wilderness and “went through the whole Jordan district proclaiming a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” St Luke describes him as the fulfilment of Isaiah’s prophecy concerning the voice in the wilderness calling all to prepare the way of the Lord. In today’s gospel, he is in the wilderness again excoriating the crowds who came seeking baptism and repentance and deliverance. “Who warned you …?,” John wants to know. "Who told you to come out here? What did you think you would find?" Who the crowds find is a fiery prophet of God, preaching judgment upon the injustice that permeates this world.

If you pay attention to the thread of gospel readings for Advent, you would soon realise that John is an irritant fixture of this season. He appears in all three lectionary cycles. He is like apple is to apple pie, and cheese is to cheesecake. The Church places him here for a distinct purpose - not just because he is a precursor to the Messiah, whose birth we will welcome at Christmas but because of his message which is needed in every age.

We need a John the Baptist who will speak prophetically and clearly in the wilderness. We need a John the Baptist who will warn us that judgment is at hand. We need a John the Baptist who will tell us what we need to hear, and not just tell us what we want to hear. We need a John the Baptist who will name the sins that pervade our lives and the injustices that structure our broken world. But we also need a John the Baptist who will point us to the path God has set before us.

In today’s passage, three groups come before him with the same question: “what must we do?” John provides each with a customised answer.

The first group are identified as “all the people.” The crowds wonder how they should respond to John’s prophetic condemnations. He tells them to love their neighbours. To share what extra they have with another and to give to those who lack even the most basic necessities. Nothing outlandishly radical. He is merely calling them to ordinary acts of grace and charity.

Next comes the deplorable tax collectors who ask the same question. What must we do? We might expect John to instruct these agents of the Roman colonial power to get new jobs helping those in need, to stop serving their imperial masters and repay those they previously had taken advantage of. No, instead, John calls them to be good tax collectors, to collect only that which is required of them. Once again, he calls them to ordinary acts of grace and charity.

Finally, the soldiers come along to ask the same question. What must we do? We might expect John to instruct these soldiers to lay aside their instruments of violence and embrace a way of peace. Instead, John tells them not to use their position of power to steal life or livelihood from anyone. Be good soldiers, he demands of them. He does not call them to do anything extraordinary or radical, but merely to ordinary acts of grace and charity.

So, what might John the Baptist say to us today? What would he say to us if we approach him with this question: “what must we do?”

On this Third Sunday of Advent, we can imagine John using the words of Saint Paul in the second reading, “I want you to be happy, always happy in the Lord,” or its other translation found in the entrance antiphon, which has given this Sunday its Latin name, Gaudete Sunday - “Rejoice in the Lord always, again I say Rejoice.” You may protest that joy doesn’t seem to be one of the vibes that you are getting from this man who lived an austere life in the wilderness and who sternly calls us to repentance.

Believe it or not, John the Baptist is the patron saint of spiritual joy.  After all, at the presence of Jesus and Mary at the scene of Mary’s visitation to her cousin Elizabeth, he leapt for joy in his mother’s womb (Lk. 1:44).  And we are told that he is the friend of the bridegroom who rejoices to hear the bridegroom’s voice (Jn. 3:29-30).

Such joy arose from John’s humility who did not see our Lord as a rival or a competitor. Many, especially among the religious elite, felt threatened by Jesus’ popularity.  But John actually encouraged his disciples to leave him, and follow the Lamb of God.  When people came, ready to honour John as the messiah, he set them straight.  He was not the star of the show, only the best supporting actor.  He stressed that he was not even fit or worthy to occupy the position of a foot slave to remove the sandals of his master. Even his coveted baptism by water would be inferior to the Messiah’s baptism of fire and the Holy Spirit. John makes it clear that he was not the Word Incarnate, only the voice who announces the word. Our Lord Jesus was the one to watch.  John may have been centre-stage for a while, but now that the star had shown up, he knew it was time for him to slip quietly off to the dressing room.

Perhaps here is where we need John the Baptist most. He might turn to us and call us to ordinary acts of grace and charity. He might call us to give what we have. He might call us to stay at our jobs and do them well. He might call us to the radical idea that seemingly ordinary lives can be imbued with the extraordinary spirit of God to transform the world. But ultimately, John is calling us to be convincing witnesses of joy because we have been touched by the Messiah.

During this Christmas season, we expect to enjoy with the family and friends times of conviviality and joy. Such expectations have been shattered this year. We could throw our hands up in despair. We could lament over a shattered world. We could grieve those we have lost, the dreams that have been shattered. We could continue to take the necessary precautions to keep our loved ones and us safe. Yes, we should do all these things. And as we do all these things, we should also live ordinary lives infused by the extraordinary call to love God and love neighbour and be joyful witnesses of the gospel. In a bleak world filled with discontent and weighed down by failure and discouragement, let us show that it is possible with God’s Grace to rejoice always, especially knowing that “indeed, the Lord is near.” Such joy can be contagious.

Be Happy at All Times

Third Sunday of Advent Year B

We’ve been constantly reminded that Advent is a season of conversion, of penance, of subdued celebration and finally, of reigning in our impatience. Yes, it’s Advent and not Christmas, well at least not for now. This, however, does not mean that you should rush to take down your Christmas tree or store away your Christmas decorations in anticipation of the Parish Priest’s unannounced home visit cum spot-check. Don’t worry the CMCO has taken care of that. Home visits have been cancelled this year. But Advent being an entirely Grinch-like experience is a gross mischaracterisation of the season. Today, the Church wishes to give us a foretaste of the joy of Christmas that is now at hand. In fact, Advent is indeed a time of joy, whilst remaining a time of sober preparation. This is because looking forward to a person’s arrival is always a cause of joy and Advent is the quintessential season of expectant waiting for the coming of our Lord. This joyful dimension is present in the readings of this Sunday.

The First Reading is an insistent invitation to rejoice. There is a verse therein which seems to be an early echo of the song of Mary, the Magnificat, “I exult for joy in the Lord, my soul rejoices in my God.” This joyful exclamation follows the words of prophecy of Isaiah that will be uttered by our Lord at the beginning of His public ministry in Nazareth: “The spirit of the Lord has been given to me for the Lord has anointed me...” The passage continues with a description of the ministry of the Messiah (the Anointed One) - He will heal, liberate, bring good news and declare a great Jubilee year. Thus, the joy with which we Christians speak of, springs not from a happy situation, a resolution of difficulty, a remedy to some affliction but like Mary, from the knowledge that the Messiah is coming and in fact, has already come.

According to Isaiah, God has given us a gift - the garment of salvation. If nakedness symbolised man’s sinfulness and depravity, being clothed reminds us of God’s precious gift of Grace. One of St Paul’s favourite leitmotifs is that of being clothed in Christ. The image also reflects a Christmas theme. We are immediately reminded of a mother tenderly wrapping her child up in swaddling clothes. The child, who is truly God, is now adorned with the flesh of humanity.

Of course, the joy that is promised in the prophetic text of Isaiah will find its fulfilment in Jesus. Indeed, in coming into the world He gives us His joy, just as He Himself confides to His disciples: “These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete” (Jn 15:11). Our Lord brings new sight to the blind, liberation to the captives but more importantly, He brought His people salvation, a new relationship with God that overcomes evil and death.

In the Second Reading, we heard how St Paul invited the Thessalonians to make joy, prayer and gratitude a permanent feature of their lives. “Be happy at all times; pray constantly; and for all things give thanks to God.” What is the reason for this “permanent” disposition? St Paul explains that it is “because this is what God expects you to do in Christ Jesus.” Such exhilarating and lasting joy is not the product of some intoxicant nor is it the result of a hedonistic lifestyle, pursuing one fleeting pleasure after another. In fact, St Paul calls for Christians to be rational in their decision-making and be steadfast in doing good and avoiding evil. So, joy is not something momentary. It is a lasting joy that demands commitment. And our commitment is merely the proper response to God’s commitment – His faithfulness which is enduring: He “has called you and He will not fail you,” as St Paul tells us.

After the first two readings, let us come to the Gospel. While the theme of joy seems clearly evident in both the first and the second readings, it may require a little effort on our part to discern the message of joy that seems hidden beneath the stark veneer and seriousness of St John the Baptist in the gospel. One would not readily associate the austere figure of John with the characteristic of joy. John, for all purposes, comes across as your proverbial kill-joy. Nevertheless, the gospel does not depart from the central theme of this Sunday. How so?

John shows us that the secret of Christian joy is found in our fundamental vocation to be a witness for Christ. Pope Francis is fond of reminding us that joy is at the heart of the announcement of the gospel – we must be joyful witnesses of Christ. Dour, sour-faced Christians make bad witnesses of the gospel. St John the Baptist provides us with a clear example of what it means to be a witness for Christ. St John was happy to tell his audience that he isn’t the main protagonist of the story but another is. John humbly admits that he isn’t the Light which the people had been waiting for; he is merely a witness of the Light. When they questioned him, John says that he is not the Christ, not Elijah, nor the prophet. Most pointedly, he declares, “I am not”. This is the gospel, which again and again has Jesus say, “I am”. “I am” is how God introduces Himself in the Old Testament. John’s denials, his saying who he is not, is ultimately pointing to who Jesus is. Jesus is God, the great “I am.” The gospel is the gospel of Jesus and not of John’s or Michael’s or Elaine’s. As Christian witnesses, we must consistently reject any attempt to make ourselves the focus of our message. We must refuse to take the credit for what ultimately belongs to God.  In fact, credit must be given where it is due - Our Lord Jesus Christ.

Advent is surely the time for Isaiah, St Paul and the Baptist to be heard inviting us to focus on the One who can drape us with the garment of salvation, the One who is the source of all Light, the One whom we are unworthy to untie the straps of His sandals, and to respond to Him with joyful hope and fervent faith. As Christians, we rejoice in His coming. This is not a time to be gloomy-looking, or to put on a forced artificial entertainment. This is a time to express a real joy in our Lord’s victory over sin as He comes to live among us. He comes to give us the fullness of life; to give us a bounce in our step, a flutter to our heart-beat and a boost to our waning strength. And so, we must be ready to be His convincing witnesses to the world. How do we do that? “Be happy at all times; pray constantly; and for all things give thanks to God.”

Joy is Hidden in Sorrow

Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time Year A

The 13^th century Persian mystic Rumi wrote: “The most secure place to hide a treasure of gold is some desolate, unnoticed place. Why would anyone hide treasure in plain sight? And so it is said: ‘Joy is hidden in sorrow.’”  I would like to add: life is hidden in death, wealth in poverty, relief and liberation in suffering. This is the wisdom of the Beatitudes – “a treasure of gold” hidden in the darkest and bleakest of human experience.

The word “beatitude” comes from the Latin beatitudo, meaning “blessedness.” The main translation in use at Mass (from the Jerusalem Bible version) has replaced “blessed”, a rich and weighty word, with this possibly misleading word, “happy”'. Why do I say that this could be misleading? Basically, because of the danger that we may come to think that the way the Christian religion makes us happy is something like giving us an emotional “high” through the use of drugs or alcohol, or through entertainment and pleasure, or by fulfilling all our wants and desires – making us popular, powerful and rich. But even a passing glance at the Beatitudes makes it clear they're hardly anything but fun and happiness-invoking. Instead, these sayings are disturbing, threatening, and downright unpleasant. The Beatitudes predict that if we are to discover true happiness at all it has to be by way of a list of obviously unpleasant scenarios: poverty, tears, hunger, and even persecution. Hardly any cause for revelry. It is hard for anyone to understand how one can rejoice and be happy when oppressed, cursed and persecuted. It seems that all suffering leads naturally only to sorrow.

Understanding the context of these sayings may help throw light on the mystery of the text.  The Beatitudes placed at the beginning of His monumental Sermon on the Mount is a statement of the essence of discipleship. In other words, it is directed specifically to those who are ready not only to listen to Christ but to accompany Him. It is the key to understanding how a follower of Christ can imitate Christ. Here, our Lord presents a programme of discipleship, a standard of virtue that no ordinary person could understand, unless that person wishes to imitate Christ in both His mission and His destiny. For it is Christ who has become poor for our sake, who weeps over Jerusalem and our bondage to sin, who suffers violence for righteousness sake and when persecuted, remained meek and gentle. He is the One who hungers and thirst for God’s Justice and who reveals God’s mercy on earth. In a way, Christ is telling us, “If you wish to be my follower, if you wish to be like me, then live the beatitudes!”

And why should we imitate Christ in the Beatitudes? This is because the Beatitudes are stacked up like a ladder to heaven. Christ has forged a golden chain for us to reach heaven. It starts with the fact that the poor in spirit, the man of humility, will mourn for his sins and in this way will become meek, righteous and merciful. And the merciful is bound to become pure in heart. The pure in heart will be a peacemaker. And he who has attained all this will be ready for danger, and will not be afraid of calumny and countless tribulations. Readiness and fearlessness will be the crowning virtues that bring, according to Jesus Christ, joy and happiness.

The reason why we find these sayings paradoxical is because there is clear contradiction between the priorities and values of the world, and the values of the Kingdom which our Lord embodies. Let’s be honest. What is it that most of us are really looking for in life? We're looking for happiness, for security, for peace. But where are we looking for these things? We desperately try to protect ourselves by collecting more and more possessions, having to have bigger and better locks on the door, putting in alarm systems. We are constantly armouring ourselves against each other – increasing the sense of separation – by having more possessions, more control, feeling more self-importance with our college degrees. We expect more respect, and we demand immediate solutions; it is a culture of instantaneous gratification. So we're constantly on the verge of being disappointed – if our computer seizes up, if we don't make that business deal, or if we don't get that promotion at work. But aren’t we just chasing shadows?

But this is not to say that we should have nothing to do with material things, possessions and financial security. We need material support, food, clothing, medicines; we need shelter and protection, a place to rest; we also need warmth, friendship. There's a lot that we need to make this journey. But because of our attachment to things, and our efforts to fill and fulfill ourselves through them, we find a residue of hunger, of disappointment, because we are looking in the wrong places. As much as we believe that these things will give us “happiness”, they won’t.

But here in the Beatitudes, Christ is offering us another way of looking at these things without being enslaved to them. In fact, true freedom comes from embracing the Beatitudes. When you possess nothing, you do not need to suffer the fear or anxiety of losing anything. That is why the key to understanding the Beatitudes is Love, or to be exact, the price we are willing to pay for love. The Beatitudes are about the things that love will suffer, they are about what love will willingly endure, the things that love will find itself able to give, and to find satisfaction and even delight in giving. At the end of the day in order to love deeply, there are things we must be willing to forgo because we have found a greater treasure in the things we have grown to love. Only by sacrificing ourselves will we find ourselves in the fullness of life lived for God and for others. And to find ourselves in God and in others, we must lose our own selves.

The teaching of Christ, then, puts a literally infinite demand on us. We can't say, ‘No more’ or ‘That's it’. The Christian faith is a hard way. Following Christ is going to be costly. Ultimately, it means the way of the Cross. Any Christian religion or preacher that promises us a bed of roses, an easy life, success, prosperity and material abundance in this life is a counterfeit. Our Lord wants the whole of us and not just a part of us. Our Lord has the right to make an infinite demand on us, because He has given us an equally infinite grace not only to help us but also to raise us up to share in the divine life.

The Beatitudes provide us with a clear reminder that the Lord overcame the world by treading the path of persecution by His enemies, whilst remaining humble, meek, and gentle. It is important to understand that tribulations are necessary because there is no other way for us to imitate Christ and be freed from sin. In suffering, we become aware of our own weaknesses, helplessness and impoverishment, and, humbled in prayer and contrition before God, we receive divine help and joy in the Lord.

The Beatitudes of Christ shows that the blessing of sorrow, lies in the consolation we receive from God. Sorrow strips off beloved possessions—but reveals the treasures of the love of God. Just like the clouds that gather in the sky with ominous threatening; but they pass, and leave their rich treasure of rain. Then the flowers are more fragrant, the grass is greener, and all living things are lovelier. In the same way, we finally can discover that God has hidden His greatest treasures in the bleakest and gloomiest of experiences. Joy is hidden in sorrow, life in death, wealth in poverty, and glory in humiliation.  Whether the world will believe it or not, whether the wise can explain it or not, the Christian’s sole desire should only be the Cross; and for those who are willing to walk the path of the Beatitudes, they will find in it a joy so hidden, a sweetness so heavenly, and a happiness so exquisite, that all can proclaim with Saint Francis of Assisi that perfect beatitude consists in suffering for the Blessed Christ.